Umbrella
by The Neon Catz
Summary: You'll be my friend, right? .:NeonClan Monthly Writing Contest March 2016:.
It rained.

It _poured_.

Heavy torrents of rain crashed down upon the Earth, attempting to cleanse it of its sins.

It also just so happened to be the one day I had to catch the late bus.

"Stupid teacher, having no sense of humor." Okay, so responding to 'Just push it in further' with 'That's what she said' may not have been the _best_ idea but it's not like the teacher wasn't thinking it too. And so I got a detention for making a joke. You win this time, teacher.

I wasn't the only one. Someone else stood at the bus stop. With an umbrella. I picked up my pace. Hopefully this was one of those friendly people that'd let me share.

"Oh hey—" Oh no.

Silver eyes glared back at me. "What do you want?"

"Oh, hey Silver," I began. He stayed silent. "Did you also get detention or something?"

"Just get to the point, Gold," he spat. I was taken aback slightly.

"Geez, no need to be so harsh. I was just wondering if..."

"If what?"

"If you'd be willing to share that umbrella of yours with your old buddy Gold."

His glare became even...more glare-like. Being upfront wouldn't work on him. Time to try something else.

"So, why _are_ you here?" I asked, inching slightly towards him.

"I needed to work on a project," he replied curtly, stepping away from me. Dammit.

"Oh, cool. What class?" I forced myself to sound interested.

He didn't answer, stepping slightly further away. This wasn't working.

I stood there, the rain coming down even harder than before. I tried to turn up my jacket collar to prevent the rain from getting into my shirt. Somehow I managed to get even more wet.

"You know what time the bus is supposed to come?"

He glanced at his wrist. "Seven minutes."

"That's a pretty long time to just be standing out in the rain, wouldn't you say?" Come on, shamecation, don't fail me now.

"Why do you keep trying to stand under my umbrella?" Cold. Irritated. Just what I should expect from such a killjoy.

"Well, I—er..." I clenched my fist, fingernails digging into the palm of my hand. He always did this. _Always_. "Why do you hate me so much?"

His eyes widened. "What took you so long to notice?"

"Oh, so you're finally admitting it." It all boiled up inside of me. "For the ten years we've known each other, you're _finally_ saying that you hate me."

"Are you done?" he said quietly.

"What did I do to make you hate me so much?"

A tiny smile formed on his face. "Well why don't we start from the beginning? The day I met you you shoved me to the ground and got everyone to laugh. Since then you've never shut up around me. You constantly get in trouble, and then you let all the blame fall onto me."

"Don't act like you're all high and mighty. You practically radiate 'emo' and 'death'. No wonder no one likes you!"

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that I'm the only friend you've had."

"No you're not."

"Oh really? Well who else do you talk to besides me?"

"T-That's not important!"

I turned away from him. Stubborn prick. So what if I got all wet? He wouldn't care. It's not like we were _friends_ or anything.

I pulled out my phone. 4:11. Four more minutes with this stupid stick in the mud. Hopefully the bus wouldn't be too crowded so I wouldn't have to sit next to him as well.

I considered calling my mom for a moment. I lived far enough away that she'd understand not walking that far—especially in rain like this—but close enough for the drive to be reasonable. But she was probably out. Wouldn't be back for some time. Guess I was _really_ stuck with him.

"You want to know why I hate you?" he seethed quietly. I looked over my shoulder at him. "Because you have everything. You have a—a family that loves you. You're friends with people that talk about something besides killing everyone. There are people out there who care about you—and you act like it's _nothing_."

"Do I?" I retorted, turning as I stifled a sob. "My mom has a new boyfriend every other week. I haven't seen my dad in over thirteen years. And all those people I hang out with? They all hate me too."

Tears rolled down my cheeks. I didn't care if he saw them; I just wanted— _needed_ —to cry, to get it all out.

"I—"

"No!" I screamed. "I've always wanted to be like you! You always seemed so... _cool_ , like you knew how to solve everything! You always had your sister to look out for you! And I had _no one_!"

I held my face in my hands, crying freely. There was a small scuffling sound. The rain above me had stopped, but I could still hear it around me.

I reached out and enveloped him with my arms. He didn't even tense up as I started crying into his shoulder. I just cried as hard as I could.

"Hey, Gold." I wiped my eyes, looking up at him. Tears had begun to prick his stoic silver eyes. "You wanna be friends again?"

"Yes."

 _~ ⻭9⻰0 ⻯8⻱0 ⻮7⻰6⻰4 ⻯1⻰3⻯4⻯0⻯9⻮9, ⻰8⻯3⻰0 ⻬8 ⻯6⻯4⻮8⻯6⻯0⻮9 ⻯4⻯9 ⻰5⻯3⻯0 ⻯1⻮6⻮8⻯0._

 _⻭9⻯3⻮6⻯9⻯6⻰4 ⻯1⻰0⻰3 ⻮7⻯0⻯4⻯9⻯2 ⻰5⻯3⻯0⻰3⻯0. ~_

* * *

 **Done. There. Now one thing I'd like to add. The word shamecation. It's a substitution for guilt trip I once saw used. I mean, who wouldn't want to make someone go on a shamecation? It makes a guilt trip sound so** ** _mundane_** **. But that's just my opinion. I made sure there wasn't too much, er,** ** _inappropriate_** **content. Just the smoothest of coarse language if that makes any sense. Hope you guys enjoyed it.**


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